


Shadow Days

by Raine_Wynd



Series: Love and Conviction [5]
Category: Highlander: The Raven, Highlander: The Series
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Clan Denial, Established Relationship, First Time, Holidays, M/M, New Years, Past Relationship(s), Rimming, Romance, Temporary Death, Thanksgiving, love isn't easy, relationship drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-17
Updated: 2012-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-07 22:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when everything in your life is going right, but you haven't dealt with all that happened before?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Show Me This Life.
> 
> Thanks to Rhi and Kickair8p for beta on the early version of this fic. Thanks also to Sam for betaing the whole thing.
> 
> Warnings, ratings, etc.: Established m/m relationship with issues, canon-level violence, alcohol abuse, occasional foul language, and explicit sex, including rimming. Nick Wolfe/Rich Ryan.

_November 2012_

Completely focused on entering the order for next week's menu into the wholesale grocer's online ordering system, Rich barely heard the conversation between Renee and Philippe, the co-managers, as they discussed the staffing schedule. After seven months of working at Sanctuary as its operations assistant, Rich knew the drama surrounding the schedule would never end. He was just glad that his part of the process was simply to make sure it was entered into the computer, posted, and emailed to the affected staff.

Sanctuary's office was on the second floor of the building, along with the staff locker room and the storage area for all the tables and chairs that were removed to create the Friday and Saturday night dance floor. For the most part, the floor itself was noisiest on the side where the staff lockers were. Access to the second floor required a key card; access to the office itself required both a pass code and a keycard, which meant that Rich worked alone for the most part, with occasional company from the senior staff and Nick. Time flew by as Rich completed the grocery order and began his next task.

Sometime later, Rich felt the Presence of an approaching Immortal and glanced over his shoulder. The whole building was Holy Ground, and the lobby area was always manned by a bouncer trained to spot trouble – mortal or otherwise. It was likely Nick, though theoretically it could be Mazi, the lead bouncer who was immortal, but he wasn't scheduled to be on duty this early in the day. Still, Rich tensed and turned in his chair to face the door; all it would take for someone to come upstairs uninvited would be to grab a key card and a hostage. Then he saw Nick enter. Renee and Philippe had apparently hammered out the schedule; the deeply redlined markup sat on the desk they'd been using, but they were no longer in the room.

Nick grinned and headed directly to him. "Boss says you should take a break," he teased.

"Really now."

"Yes," Nick agreed, and, mindful that Rich sat in a rolling chair, carefully straddled Rich before kissing him thoroughly.

Relishing Nick's initiative, Rich returned the kiss eagerly as he drew him closer. Nick was taller by three inches, but he was burlier, wider of shoulder and chest, while Rich was thinner and longer of torso. Trying to equalize the difference, Rich spread his legs wide so his boyfriend didn't have to lean down as far to kiss him. Rich had quickly discovered that the older man loved kissing and cuddling. The chemistry between them sizzled like wildfire, and it was getting harder to remember that Nick had limited experience with gay sex and with being in a relationship with a man. This moment was no different; the kiss quickly escalated to a duel of tongues while Nick pulled Rich closer still.

The sound of applause made the two men stop kissing. Turning, they saw that Renee had returned.

Fanning herself with the schedule she'd picked up, the perky brunette whistled softly before grinning. Her green eyes sparkled as she asked, "You want me to make the office off-limits for a while, Nick?"

Nick flushed slightly, but he didn't break the embrace. "No, that's okay, Renee. I'll be down in a minute."

Renee's smile widened knowingly before she exited.

Rich studied Nick a moment. "I like your idea of a break, but what brought that on?"

Nick shrugged slightly and rose to his feet. "You didn't come up and say hi this morning like you've been doing."

Rich chuckled and gestured to the computer. "If I'd done that, I wouldn't have been able to meet with Tomas to go over the food order before he started cooking for the day. You know how hungry I get when I have to try and get the order while he's cooking."

Nick laughed. "Yeah. I believe the phrase ‘ravenous beast' was used a few weeks ago?" he teased. "I've missed you. Your text said you took the late train back and then overslept your alarm. What happened in London? You were gone all day Sunday and yesterday."

"Ever attend a party where the host tries to do something like barbecue ribs and he doesn't start it until everyone shows up, instead of before?"

Nick groaned. "One of those?"

"Yeah. Then every time I tried to leave, Cameron kept saying, 'no, no, don't go, you have to meet someone.' I finally escaped by telling him I was gonna get fired if I didn't leave London."

"Sounds like a real winner. How was London otherwise?"

Rich smiled. "It's still not one of my favorite cities in the world. After speaking so much French lately, speaking English  felt positively foreign. Do you realize we barely speak English to each other?"

Nick laughed. "I'd wondered if you'd noticed. You can make up for being gone so long by having dinner with me tonight, say around 8?"

Rich smiled. He had a feeling that dinner wasn't the only thing Nick had planned. "Of course." He briefly kissed Nick. "Now let me finish my work, before my boss decides I'm a slacker."

"I'd never call you that," Nick vowed. "Especially since you've shown just how focused you can be, and tonight, I'd love it if you'd turn that focus on me and show me what I've been missing."

He pressed a kiss to Rich's lips one more time before turning and walking out of the office.

Anticipation curled through Rich, and he forced himself to concentrate on the tasks ahead of him. A glance at the clock on the computer told him it was just shy of two o'clock. Rich groaned, aware that his lover – despite having two very competent managers and a well-trained staff that included an informed security team – would not leave the pub until he was sure they could deal without him. Rich decided a little insurance to make sure the date happened on time wouldn't hurt.

A few strategic conversations with Renee and Philippe later, Rich waited until he'd finished printing out the batch of nightly dinner special menus to strike. On his way back to the office after dropping the menus off at the hostess stand, he waylaid Nick in the back hallway, not far from the elevator, and proceeded to kiss him just as thoroughly as Nick had done so earlier. He upped the ante as well, unzipping Nick's jeans to stroke his cock.

"Sure you don't want to just head upstairs right now?" Rich asked.

Panting heavily, flushed with desire, Nick stared at him. With admirable effort, Nick reined in his libido and zipped up his jeans. As if Rich held live dynamite, he backed away from Rich slowly. "Give me an hour."

Rich silently cheered. "I'll see you upstairs in fifteen minutes."

****

Twenty minutes later, Nick paused before unlocking the intricately carved front door of his penthouse, abruptly nervous. They'd been working up to this moment for weeks, to the point where Nick wanted this night to be perfect. He'd thought about this all weekend; Rich had been incredibly patient with him, and Nick was beginning to wonder if maybe if the younger man didn't want him that way. Telling himself he was being incredibly silly, Nick unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Rich waited for Nick to shut the door before he pounced, pushing him against the door. Nick would have smiled except he was too busy returning Rich's passion with the same fervent hunger.

"Rich, God, please."

"Please what?" Rich demanded, nibbling on his ear and then moving to lick Nick's neck.

Nick shuddered, unable to form coherent thought. Their kissing and petting earlier paled in comparison to the heat he was feeling now. With effort, Nick pushed his lover back slightly. "Stop, I can't think with you doing that."

Rich chuckled, but accepted the rebuff. "Dinner first, then?"

Nick blew out a breath. He wasn't freaking out, damn it; Rich wasn't the first man to touch him sexually, but this was a far cry from the cock sucking he'd accepted one night on a dare. He'd planned to let Rich have his way with him tonight, but suddenly the moment was here and Nick felt like a deer in headlights.

Reading his expression, Rich stepped closer. "Hey. It's okay. Whatever's going through your head right now, you know you can tell me." Gently, Rich held him close.

Nick leaned into the embrace and laughed shortly. "Had a plan for us tonight. Got to thinking while you were gone that it was time for us to, well, fuck."

"Yeah?" Reassuringly, Rich rubbed his back. "Did that plan include you remembering I promised you I wouldn't rush you into something you might regret?"

Nick laughed ruefully. "I was hoping you'd just follow my lead, but obviously that's working so well."

"Oh, I'm following," Rich assured him. "Right now I'm seeing a lot of caution signs. Why tonight, Nick? Is because I was gone two days – long enough for you to wonder if I was coming back?"

Nick sighed but said nothing.

Rich let out a breath, looking faintly resigned. "I thought you sounded worried when I talked to you yesterday. Did I ever mention I never forget just how precious your trust in me is?" Rich went on ruthlessly, still stroking Nick reassuringly. "In case you were wondering, I didn't take you to London with me because I thought _I'd_ be bored, and I figured you would be too. Had I known it was going to be such a long damn party, I'd have escaped sooner – or not gone at all."

"I thought you said Cameron was a friend. You didn't know it was going to turn out that way?"

Rich shook his head ruefully. "No, but I didn't know Cameron that well when he helped me dodge a guy at a bar a few years ago. Didn't care, either. Like I told you last week, I was surprised to run into him on the street and didn't think he'd remember me. Of course, he thinks my name is Seth Moore and Seth's never met a party he didn't like, but –" Rich lifted his shoulders upwards slightly and broke their embrace. "I didn't feel much like being Richie Ryan when we met. Thought it was worth my time to keep up that identity for a few hours, just in case I have to kill this one again." Rich moved to sit on the couch and Nick followed him, taking a seat on the other end of the couch.

"How many names have you used?"

Rich shrugged. "I lost count after I burned through the five Duncan set up for me, including my own. Matthew McCormick's the one who helped me with getting set up again as Rich Ryan so that it isn't associated with the guy who died on a Paris racetrack. Had to watch his house for a year in exchange, but –" Rich shrugged again "– it was a lovely house, and he's a good guy. We may need his help to get you completely untangled from being on Interpol's list of possible accomplices, now that you're not so involved with Amanda." Rich studied the stockier man a moment. "Feeling better?"

Realizing what his boyfriend had just done, Nick laughed shortly. "Yeah. Thanks for distracting me." He took a breath, held it, then let it out. "I know you've been waiting for me to get used to –" Nick fumbled for words and tried again. "Please, Rich, fuck me."

Rich eyed him a moment before a mischievous smile appeared on his face. "Let me see. How'd we do this a few months ago? I think I was here –" Rich slid over and straddled Nick's lap. "And you were there, and I was asking the same question I'm gonna ask now: are you sure, Nick? I'm not going to stop this time unless you tell me to."

In reply, Nick kissed him again, making his decision clear. Rich took his cue, deepening the kiss. With practiced ease, Rich stripped Nick out of his shirt and then maneuvered him to lay lengthwise on the couch so he could then lick and kiss every inch of Nick's neck and chest. Rich played with the thick mat of chest hair Nick had and toyed with his nipples, intensifying the pleasure. Nick was on fire with need, and his hands reached for Rich to return the favor.

"Later," Rich countered. "I've dreamed of you like this; let me touch you first."

Rich caressed Nick's groin, mouthing at Nick's wide erection through the thick fabric before unzipping Nick's jeans and fondling the prize he found – familiar moves, but Nick knew this time wouldn't end with a hand job. When Rich stopped to strip him of the remainder of his clothes, Nick whimpered, protesting the sudden cessation of contact. Rich skimmed Nick's legs with his fingers, scratching lightly as he traversed the length upward to Nick's cock. Nick moaned at the sensation.

"Rich, please," Nick begged. He'd dreamed of this, thought about how it would go for weeks now, but nothing matched the reality.

Rich took a moment to undress, tossing his clothing to one side of the wide couch. "You look so gorgeous laid out like that," Rich told him, then kissed him. Mindful of his weight, Rich positioned himself over his lover, then began his journey downward again.

Nick had had his cock sucked by a man before; he'd thought he'd known what to expect: some licking and stroking, mostly near the head, as Nick's cock was wide and long. Rich showed him that one experience hadn't been nearly as educational as he'd thought. Rich nibbled, licked, and sucked Nick's cock as if he'd never get enough of it, nearly swallowing it whole, until Nick's thoughts narrowed down to the incredible sensations his lover was giving him and he couldn't hold back.

"Rich, oh God, please –"

In reply, Rich just took him deeper into the back of his throat. Nick's release exploded through him. Rich slid up Nick's body and gathered him in his arms, holding him close as the aftershocks rolled through him. Nick could feel Rich's hardness against his groin and knew the other man wasn't done.

Pulling back so their eyes could meet, Nick looked at his lover. "There's a tube of lube on the side table."

To his credit, Rich didn't laugh at Nick's preparedness, though his eyes darkened with emotion. "Gotta take the edge off first," he explained. "I'd love your hands on me if you're up to it, or just watch me."

Nick wanted to return the pleasure Rich had given him. "And if I said I wanted to do the same as you did to me?"

Rich shivered. "Later. Not gonna last for that," he said as he started jacking his cock. Moving over Nick again, he set his legs on either side of Nick's hips, balancing his weight on his knees. Nick realized he could reach Rich's balls in this position, and began to gently massage them. A thrill shot through him as he realized again the extent of the younger man's desire for him.

"Do it," Nick encouraged.

As if that had been his cue, Rich groaned and his release shot out, spilling over Nick's groin. Breathing heavily, Rich stared at Nick a long, wordless moment before he leaned up and kissed him deeply.

To Nick's surprise, Rich didn't linger. "I'd snuggle you right now, but we'll stick together. Be right back," he promised. Sitting up slightly, Nick saw him rummage through a drawer in the kitchen and pull out a clean hand towel. Rich ran it under the kitchen faucet, wetting it slightly, before returning to the couch and swiping at Nick's groin.

"That should keep us until we get upstairs," Rich told him, careful to put the towel on the glass inlay portion of the coffee table, before returning to cuddle Nick.

Nick raised his eyebrows, settling into the embrace, relishing the feel of his lover as Rich lay on top of him. "Who said anything about upstairs? I like where we're at right now."

Rich laughed softly. "That explains the location of the lube." He studied his lover a moment. "I like getting fucked as much as I like fucking," he said bluntly. "You don't have to take it if you don't want to."

"Maybe I want this to be an equal partnership," Nick shot back. "You've been treating me like I'm spun glass, Rich, and while I love being cherished, I'm not going to break."

"Maybe I like the idea of being able to go slow with someone strong enough to deserve being treated that way," Rich retorted. "I want this to last, Nick. You nearly freaked a little while ago over your plans to go all the way tonight. I'm not about to let you think I shoved you off the deep end after that."

Nick blew out a breath, closed his blue-green eyes, and held Rich close. It had been years since he'd been with a lover who understood just how far Nick could be pushed – and when not to go there. After a few minutes, Nick said carefully, "Sometimes I need the push; otherwise I start wondering what's wrong with me. I've liked the hand jobs we've been giving each other, but I want more than that. You've been so patient with me, but I know you've been holding back." He shrugged awkwardly. "Please, Rich? I'd like to stop freaking out over this, wondering if I'm not doing enough."

Rich considered that for a minute before he kissed Nick slowly. "It's not a race; you don't get prizes at the end. I'm not going to want you any less if we don't do more."

"I know, but I…" Nick sighed. "It's not like I'm completely innocent, Rich. I know what it feels like to have anal sex with a dildo; I'd like to feel what it's like when it's your cock instead of a toy. Besides, I want this with you." He kissed Rich, trying to put into actions what he couldn't articulate with words.

Rich savored the kiss before saying, "Then let's take this party up to your room; you'll want to sprawl. Do we need to take that handy tube of lube up with us?"

Nick shook his head as Rich rose to his feet.

"I'm not sure whether to tease you for being hopeful or being a Boy Scout," Rich said with a smile.

Nick shrugged awkwardly. "Would it help if I said nothing I learned as a Scout ever prepared me for this?"

Rich's smiled widened. "Got it." Gallantly, he gently assisted Nick to his feet. Kissing him again, Rich then led the way up the master bedroom, kissing and stroking Nick every so often, reigniting the fire that sizzled so easily between them.

Unsure of what to expect, Nick was again surprised by his lover's care as Rich paused just inside the bedroom. "We can shower first," Rich said, "or we can go as we are."

"Shower? I'm feeling kinda sticky. You, uh, went a bit all over, and that wet towel trick didn't exactly catch everything."

Rich smiled briefly and led the way into the attached bathroom. "Happens," he said, matter-of-factly as he turned on the taps to the shower suite, which had multiple showerheads built into the tiles to create a nearly 360-degree effect. "Want some help with that?"

Stepping into the shower, Nick adjusted the temperature to his liking, then wordlessly invited Rich inside. The two men fit with room to spare. Nick adjusted the controls so that most of the water hit their shoulders and below. "That good?"

Rich smiled. "Oh yeah," and reached for the soap.

Nick almost found himself wishing he hadn't installed the same shower setup in the biggest of the three guestrooms as Rich proved that he knew exactly how to manipulate the water tiles to maximum seductive effect. By the time they turned off the water, both men were clean and Nick was quivering with desire. Then Rich took the towel off its rack, and proceeded to dry both of them off in such a way that Nick knew he'd never look at a towel the same way again. With every touch, every stroke, every kiss, every lick, every word, his lover demonstrated affection, respect, and desire, to the point Nick no longer had any reservations about what he was doing or who he was doing it with. This wasn't just sex between two guys; it was sex between two people who shared a genuine appreciation for each other.

Finally, Nick couldn't take any more. He pushed Rich against the wall and dropped to his knees, needing to give back some of the pleasure he'd been given. For a moment, he flashed on the ways Amanda had teased him with a dildo, making him taste it before using it in him, and shoved the memory aside ruthlessly. What he had shared with Amanda had the bitter taste of trying to save a failing relationship attached to it, and he didn't need that memory now.

Nick held Rich's cock in his hand, leaned forward, and licked Rich's cock, tasting the faint tang of soap and smelling the essence of male. The combination made him forget the taste of silicone, and he was hooked instantly. Nick knew he wouldn't be able to take Rich's length in its entirety, so he settled for what he could take comfortably and used his hand to grip the rest. Nick took Rich's cock into his mouth and heard Rich groan his name. Empowered, Nick sucked, experimenting with suction and angles, remembering what he liked and taking cues from Rich's words and reactions, before Rich warned him, "Gonna come."

Unwilling to lose out, Nick held on, wanting this experience. He nearly gagged, but swallowed determinedly. It was an acquired taste, he decided, pulling his mouth off Rich's cock and swallowing again. Wiping his mouth with his forearm, Nick then looked up at Rich.

Rich stared at him as if he'd never get enough. With a voice gone husky with desire, Rich ordered, "Bed. Now."

Feeling as though he could conquer the world, Nick rose to his feet and swaggered to the bed. He had just enough time to lie down before he was pounced. Rich kissed him, tasting himself on Nick and making it clear that the combined flavor was a turn-on. "Need to taste you," Rich said, tearing himself away. "Need you so much, Nick. God, you're so beautiful. Please let me taste you."

"Taste me?" Nick asked, then Rich's hands indicated exactly where. Nick shivered, unsure, but the passion pounding through his blood demanded surrender. Nothing Rich had shown him so far had been bad. He could always say stop if he didn't like it.

"Would it be easier if I rolled over?" Nick asked. He got a slow, lingering kiss in reply. Wordlessly, Rich encouraged him to roll over onto his hands and knees, kissing him when he'd managed it. 

"So good, Nick," Rich said. "You taste so good, I gotta have more." Rich knelt behind Nick and spread his ass cheeks wide. At the first touch of Rich's tongue on his asshole, Nick nearly jumped at the sensation, but Rich had been prepared for that. One of Rich's hands petted Nick's back as he kept licking, and Nick quickly relaxed into the sensation. It wasn't arousing at first and Nick wasn't too sure he liked it, but then Rich started massaging Nick's cock as he kept licking, and Nick fell into the rhythm.

Nick felt Rich leave briefly, and automatically protested the movement. "Just a moment, babe," Rich told him, and Nick heard him rustle through the nightstand drawer. Nick breathed in a long, slow breath, quivering with anticipation as finally, his plan for the evening came to fruition. He heard the snick of a cap, a pause, and then felt the slick of cool gel. Automatically, he let out a breath, remembering from the times he'd been penetrated with a dildo that tensing wasn't a good move. For a brief moment, he wondered if Rich would put on a condom, then remembered that since both of them were immortal and couldn't pass diseases, condoms were optional.

Rich stretched him slowly, kissing his back and continuing to massage Nick's cock as he worked Nick open. By the time he'd worked his way up to three fingers, Nick wasn't sure he could take any more teasing. He felt as though they'd been playing forever; surely, this much arousal could kill a guy. "Please, Rich, just fuck me now, damn it," he demanded.

A low chuckle met his words, but Rich eased into him. Aching for more, Nick demanded again, "Fuck me."

"Not gonna tear you," Rich gritted out. "I don't care if we both can heal. Want it to be good for you." Finally, he was all the way in, and he breathed heavy for a moment before pulling back out, then in again. The feel of living flesh instead of hard silicone was a heady pleasure for Nick, and he wanted more.

"It's already so good. Better than toys. God! Rich! Fuck me!" Impatiently, Nick reached behind him to pull his lover closer. The sudden arching of his back drove Rich in at a different angle, and Nick cried out as the other man drilled his prostate.

Rich groaned and proceeded to nail that spot repeatedly. It wasn't long before Nick's orgasm crashed through him again. Nick groaned when he realized that Rich was still hard. "You're gonna kill me."

"With pleasure, sure. You get the benefit of me being nineteen forever," Rich whispered in his ear, and began to thrust gently. "Breathe and squeeze for me, love. Can you put your legs together a little more? That's it, babe. Love the way you feel."

The emotion in Rich's voice, the way he curled over Nick, stroking Nick's hips and sides, made Nick fall in love a little more. So much caring and desire poured into every touch, Nick knew he'd want to be loved this way forever.

"That's it, babe, oh God, Nick –" Shuddering helplessly, Rich thrust one more time and came. Even then, he was mindful to pull out slowly. For a long moment, he hovered over Nick, breathing heavily, before leaving the bed. He returned with a warm washcloth, with which he wiped both Nick and himself down thoroughly, and then pulled Nick into an embrace.

"You –" he declared "– amaze me."

Nick kissed him back. "Feeling's mutual." He paused. "How do you feel about getting dressed long enough to grab dinner from the kitchen downstairs?"

"If it's the meal I snuck into your fridge earlier, then I'm okay with naked," Rich said with a grin.

Nick gaped at him, then laughed softly. "Let's do that then."

****

Nick laid in his bed, wallowing in the simple pleasure of being able to cuddle his lover. Rich slept on, having thoroughly proven that he had the libido and stamina of a nineteen-year-old, tempered by his affection and concern for Nick. 

Still, Nick worried. Rich seemed content to be with him, but how long before the grind of the pub wouldn't be enough to satisfy an inquisitive mind? How long before Rich hopped on his motorcycle and headed off elsewhere to answer the call of another friend-of-a-friend in need? How long before Rich got tired of dealing with Nick's problems and decided he wanted someone with fewer issues? Financially, Rich was set; he'd told Nick that he'd learned his lesson about money the hard way. Nick had noticed that Rich tended to spend his money on stuff for his motorcycle, but very little for himself. 

Nick wasn't sure he had a lot to offer. He had more stability than he'd had when he'd been a homicide detective, but it was still a life with long hours and potential danger from other immortals. He'd tied himself to Sanctuary, partly out of a fear that both Amanda and Bert would find interesting ways to get him killed. Nick had no plans to leave; he liked Paris. As a high-end pub and dance club, Sanctuary was successful and profitable, though its hybrid concept made it a unique attraction in Paris. Nick had fought hard to make it the best. Its reputation as one of the safest clubs to dance in wasn't an accident either. Though he trusted his managers to run the club and keep its secrets, Nick had made himself the heart of the place by choice. 

What could he offer to keep a younger man, a true contender in the Game, from leaving? Nick was a better swordsman from sparring with Rich every week, but he knew in a true battle, Rich would kill him. The eight-year gap between their ages wasn't usually noticeable, but Nick hadn't wandered the world to the degree Rich had, and had no compelling desire to do so. Nor had Nick lived the life of an immortal as Rich had, learning what life out in the real world was like for longer than it had taken Ceirdwyn to train him. In Sanctuary, the senior staff knew about immortals, and Nick was shielded from having to explain himself or his sword-carrying friends. Sooner or later, Rich would leave, and Nick didn't know how he'd cope now that he had a taste of what happiness was like.

Nick knew he had a possessive streak; it had been a bone of contention in his more intimate relationship with Amanda. He'd thought that she would become more open after they'd become lovers; he'd miscalculated badly. So far, Rich had been honest and open with him, but how much longer would that be true? 

"You're thinking loudly," Rich complained, rolling over to press a kiss on Nick's lips before yawning. 

"Sorry."

Rich leaned up on one elbow. "Did I push you too far last night?" he asked carefully, looking worried.

"What? No. God no." Apologetically, Nick kissed him. "Just..."

Rich froze, and the expression on his face turned guarded.

Hurriedly, Nick spoke, "Wondering what I have to do to keep you."

"I'm not Amanda," Rich said, a hint of anger in his voice. "What we share isn't some bargaining chip to be used later. I hate that she made you feel like you needed to prove your love. Nobody should ever resort to emotional blackmail."

Helplessly, Nick said, "I know, but –"

"But?"

"Now that you know what I'm like, there's nothing to stop you from leaving."

Rich stared at him a long, wordless moment, then cocked his head, cupping his ear. "Hear that? I swear that's the sound of paranoia talking." He leaned over and kissed Nick tenderly. "I don't know how the hell you make that seem sexy, but you do."

Bewildered, Nick looked at him, then laughed. "Sexy? My paranoia is sexy?"

"Sure it is," Rich told him. "I spent five years not being paranoid enough." He said the words lightly, but Nick knew precisely how serious they were. 

Humbled by the compliment, Nick studied his lover. "I feel like I could get used to mornings like this," he admitted, "and the way it feels with you – I'm scared I'll wake up one day and it'll be just a memory."

"I vote for making lots of good ones in case that day comes," Rich quipped with a grin, then sobered. "I'm scared, too, Nick. I've been there on the days you can't step across the street to the garage without someone challenging you, just because you stepped off Holy Ground and you're Nick Wolfe, the guy who has the best piece of Holy Ground in all of Europe. There's always someone who'd love to take out a student of the MacLeods' – and the only one of Duncan's who's still sane and alive is me; Gregor's still working on it, and I'm not sure he'll ever be less than borderline crazy. But living in fear isn't living, and I'll fight to keep what we have together." Rich pulled Nick close and held him comfortingly. 

"You keep forgetting that you're not the only one in this relationship who's ever had a bad relationship with an immortal, or a bad relationship, period. All I want from you is you, not gifts or status or games where we play how many ways we can blackmail each other. Though I won't object if you want to give me stuff just because you want to, not because you think it'll keep me." He paused. "I really liked the presents you gave me last night." 

Nick considered his lover's words. "I feel so incredibly – fifteen – about asking this, but –"

Rich leaned over and kissed him. "You were wonderful."

"Was I right in thinking you've been holding out on me? I know you're passionate, but I wasn't expecting it to that degree."

Rich chuckled. "I've been keeping it on a leash; I knew if I let go, I wouldn't want to stop until we'd made love several times."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "You did warn me," he remembered. "‘Nineteen forever' is what you said."

"You kept up beautifully," Rich reassured him, kissing him again. "I figured you could, as passionate as you are about other things."

"How'd you get so smart?" Nick teased.

Rich was quiet a moment. "I didn't used to be," he admitted. "On one of my really bad days after Connor rescued me, he pointed out that if his cousin had succeeded in taking my head that third time, the sum total of my immortality would've been four years. If Joe hadn't interceded the first time, I'd have gotten a year longer, max. Realizing just how short my life could've been made me want to do something meaningful, which is why I wound up working for Grace."

Nick kissed him. "You're a finer man for it," he said. "Sorry I woke you."

Rich smiled and pulled him closer for a brief hug. "Better that than you acting all weird suddenly and giving me stuff, hoping I'll stay longer," Rich said, then yawned and glanced at the bedside clock. "I'm going back to sleep; it's still too freaking early."

Nick chuckled as he let go of his lover so that Rich could settle more comfortably under the covers before spooning around him. It wasn't long before the two men both were asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_Two and a half weeks later_

"Sanctuary, this is Nick," Nick greeted the caller as he sat in the office, reviewing the week's payroll for final approval. Rich had already done his part in processing it; now all it needed was Nick's authorization prior to the bank issuing the checks.

"Ah, damn it, I knew when you didn't answer your cell phone you'd be working," a familiar voice complained. "You're American; shouldn't you be celebrating Thanksgiving?"

Nick grinned and hit the button to authorize the payroll. "I will be in about twenty minutes," he said, thinking of the dinner he'd planned. "How's it going, Dan?"

"Karen forgot to warn me that her family's version of Thanksgiving dinner is a zoo," Dan said wryly. "I've managed to escape the madness by telling everyone I needed to call my brother."

Nick laughed. Dan was outgoing, charming, ruggedly handsome, and shared Nick's fearlessness for unfamiliar situations; for him to say he was overwhelmed was unusual. "Big family?"

"Huge," Dan said. "Karen's parents have at least four siblings each, and all of them have children and grandchildren. Then there's her brother's family, and a bunch of friends they've more or less adopted into the family. I'm surprised they all fit into this house; it's not exactly large. But they're a warm, friendly bunch. One of Karen's cousins wants to hire me, just on the basis I spent twenty-five years in the Air Force; I'm tempted."

"You did say you weren't exactly thrilled with the job you found," Nick pointed out, remembering the conversation they'd had two months previously.

He heard his brother sigh. "I'll check it out, but in this economy, it's not worth jumping ship just because I'm currently bored. What's this rumor I hear you're seeing someone new? Something about k-i-s-s-i-n-g a guy in the office?"

Nick smothered a laugh; he hadn't expected that his brother would maintain his friendships with the Sanctuary staff, especially since Dan had been gone from Paris for nearly a year. "Yeah, so?"

"I never knew you liked guys, little bro," Dan remarked, but there was no censure in his voice. "Though I figured after Amanda, no other woman could compete. Emmeline was good, but she wasn't even close to making you happy the way Amanda did."

Nick chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "Hadn't thought of it that way, to be honest. Rich and I have a lot in common, and he has such enthusiasm for living. He makes me smile."

"Well, he'd better," Dan said. "Or I'll fly out there and kick his ass. Oh, wait. A lot in common, hmm? Would that include a love of swords, motorcycles, and dangerous women?"

"It might," Nick hedged, aware that it would drive the ex-Watcher crazy.

"Damn, bro, if that's who I think it is, then you're with one of the strongest players in the Game. Redhead? Student of one of the MacLeods, maybe both?"

"Yeah," Nick confirmed.

Dan whistled softly. "I'd like to meet him someday. Maybe we can Skype each other when he's around and you can introduce me. I bet Headquarters is going crazy over your matchup, if they know."

"I wouldn't doubt it. Rich figured out our assistant manager was working for them. I gave George a choice to figure out where his priorities were; he chose the door."

"You tried," Dan said sympathetically. "At least this way, they won't shoot him for working there, even if he did agree to be their plant. They have a bad habit of changing their minds about how risky something is."

"Yeah," Nick said, and tried not to sound sad that George had chosen to leave rather than work with him on the whole Watcher mess.

"His choice, bro; just like mine was. I don't regret it." Dan paused. "Except for now, damn it. You couldn't call and tell me sooner you were dating Rich?"

"I was going to," Nick demurred. "But I kept getting sidetracked."

Dan laughed. "Oh, I see how it is," he teased. "You finally get enough free time that you _can_ be sidetracked, and you forget all about family."

"Hey, I sometimes forgot you were around even when you were here," Nick shot back tartly, and heard his brother laugh.

"You were always working or trying to please Amanda, then Emmeline," Dan remembered. "I swear the only time I saw you was in passing. I hope you aren't treating Rich the same way."

"No, he's pretty good about trying to keep me from working too hard. Besides, I was being cautious. I wasn't sure how long he and I would last."

"So how long has it been now?"

"Three months."

"Ah, no wonder you didn't tell me sooner. If someone's not that important, you usually drop them after two."

"I didn't know you paid that close attention, bro."

"After I watched Amanda break your heart again? Damn straight I was going to pay attention. She did a number on your self-confidence. I hope Rich understands that."

"He's known her a hell of a lot longer; if anyone understands how she can be, it's him." Nick paused. "Rich lets me lean on him in a way I never could with her. It's refreshing."

Dan chuckled. "Good. About damn time you found someone you could do that with; Amanda always seemed to lean on you instead. Emmeline, too, for that matter. Well, bro, I'm glad Rich makes you happy, but let him know I'll still kick his ass if he hurts you."

Nick chuckled. "I'll pass that message along. So besides getting used to being grilled by a large family, what else is new with you?"

Ten minutes later, having promised he'd talk to Rich about setting up a Skype session, Nick hung up and logged off the computer system.

A quick phone call to the kitchen assured him that his plans were on schedule, and he headed towards the elevator to pick up what he'd ordered. By the time he'd reached it, the elevator doors opened to reveal Rich with a service cart filled to the brim with dishes.

Grinning, he said, "I thought I'd timed that right."

"I thought Renee was going to help," Nick countered as he activated the mechanism for the third floor.

Rich shrugged. "She was busy with a customer. Besides, given that you went through the effort of making a Thanksgiving dinner happen on a day we're both working, the least I can do is help set it up."

"What's the use in being the boss if you can't play hooky for a few hours?"

Rich studied him a moment. "That's not the only reason," he said quietly, reaching across the cart to tangle his hands in Nick's. "But that's okay; you can tell me later." A pleased smile crossed Rich's lips. "You paid attention when I went into the American grocery store two weeks ago and was raving about the things I missed. As much as you like to cook, I figured you might do something, but I wasn't expecting this."

"I knew the place existed – hard to be American in Paris and not know – but I never found a reason to go there," Nick told him, loving the look on his lover's face. "The hard part was sneaking the order past you and getting Tomas to spend the time to cook for just us. I'm surprised I managed to keep this a secret from you as long as I did. I knew if I stuck the ingredients in my fridge, you'd know as soon as you opened the door."

Rich chuckled. "Hey, you managed to keep it from me until yesterday; that's not bad for something you set up on short notice. You know me and food; I can't stay out of the kitchen, and the staff was starting to run out of excuses to keep me out. Speaking of, this food smells incredible. I can't remember the last time I had turkey."

The elevator opened onto the third floor, and the two men made quick work of pulling the plates off the serving cart and onto Nick's dining room table. A bottle of red wine had also been included; Rich located the glasses in the kitchen and poured them both drinks. The center of the table soon filled with a platter of turkey, sliced and presented in an appealing style; bowls of brown gravy, garlic mashed potatoes, green beans, and cranberry sauce. For dessert, there was even pumpkin pie and whipped cream. As Nick laid out the food, Rich pulled out plates and silverware from the buffet, and it wasn't long before the two were seated before the meal.

Conversation remained light as the two dug into the feast; Nick mentioned his phone call with his brother, and Rich sounded enthused about meeting him via Skype. When both were sated, Nick poured a bit more wine for them. Sensing Nick wanted to talk seriously, Rich reached across the corner of the table and grasped Nick's hand reassuringly.

"I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me," Nick began. "I took on too much with the pub, Meyers International, and everything Amanda, but I didn't have anything else to fill up my time. Having you around helped me refocus on what I wanted to do, which is get out of things involving Amanda and Bert Meyers, not get deeper into them." He raised his glass in toast. "More importantly, I want to thank you for making me realize I needed someone in my life I could lean on, and who gave a damn about what I wanted and needed, even when –" Nick chuckled softly "–I wanted to go faster and farther than I really was ready to go."

Rich shook his head. "No thanks necessary," he told Nick with a smile, clinking his glass against Nick's. He took a perfunctory sip, then said, "I love you."

Nick's eyes widened at those words; though Rich's actions had often spoken of love, Nick hadn't expected Rich to say the words. "I love you, too, Rich." He let out a nervous breath as he watched a look of awe cross Rich's face. "What?"

Too stunned for words, Rich put his glass down carefully and shook his head. Gesturing, he motioned Nick to turn in his chair so he sat sideways. Once Nick had done that, Rich rose and then knelt before him. For a long, wordless moment, Nick read his lover's genuine amazement at his declaration. He looked staggered, as if he hadn't expected Nick to return his feelings. Then he closed his eyes and tried to regain his equilibrium. Inhaling deeply, he opened his eyes and rose slightly to kiss Nick with all the love and gratitude he felt in that moment.

As if on cue, the phone began to ring – not either of their cell phones, which they'd purposely turned off, but the one in the kitchen that connected the penthouse with the pub downstairs. Swearing, aware that Nick would never ignore that phone, Rich broke the kiss.

Leaning his head against Rich's shoulders, Nick tried to pull himself together. With an understanding smile, Rich backed away, stood, and then reached for the phone.

"Nick Wolfe's residence, this is Rich," he said, his professional voice betraying none of the strong emotion that had left him speechless. He listened to the caller a moment, then promised, "One of us will be downstairs or will call back in ten minutes."

Worried, Nick looked at Rich. "Who's causing trouble?"

"Remember how you asked me if anyone would come looking for me?" Rich asked rhetorically. "Maybe I should've asked if anyone was going to come looking for you. How'd you piss off Dominic Chapman?"

Startled, Nick looked at Rich. "I have no idea who that is. How do you know him?"

"He came after Grace, but when he realized he was no match for me, he ran. I wanted to pursue him, but Grace talked me out of it." Rich sounded disgusted. "He's in the bar right now, demanding to speak to you. Love, I managed to beat him, but that's because I was fighting with two weapons that day, but he still managed to cut me with a poisoned blade."

"Forewarned is forearmed," Nick began, but the look on Rich's face stopped his words. "Look, maybe I can talk him out of whatever grudge he's got against me."

Rich took a deep breath, clearly fighting the urge to argue. Exhaling, he said, "Maybe. In case he doesn't, may I fight him instead? I hate asking; Duncan used to do that to me all the time, claiming he had an older argument with whoever it was, but I'm starting to see his point."

"Which is? You don't trust me to fight?" Annoyed, Nick rose and paced away from the table.

Rich caught up with him and grabbed his forearm. "No, that's not it. I trust you with my life and my heart. I want you to live."

"I'm not planning on losing," Nick shot back.

"I didn't say you were," Rich said tiredly. "Nothing I can say right now is going to be right, so I'll stop talking. You might as well head on down; I'll put this stuff away. Maybe we can have the leftovers tomorrow." So saying, Rich picked up one of the plates.

Nick stared at him, feeling torn. While he knew his bouncers and his senior staff could handle most immortals, Nick felt compelled to protect his people, especially from those who came looking for him specifically. If he left now, all his preparations for how this evening would go would be ruined. He'd had no intentions of returning to oversee the pub after dinner; he wanted to spend the rest of the night showing just how much he loved Rich.

"Leave it, Rich," Nick said abruptly, and strode to where the other immortal stood. Kissing him swiftly but intently, Nick pulled back long enough to promise, "This won't take long," then headed for the elevator.

Fifteen minutes later, Nick returned to find the table had been cleared. Rich was nowhere in the two-story penthouse, but Nick could still feel him close by. Playing a hunch, Nick headed up to the roof exit.

He found Rich standing by the emergency escape winch system Amanda had had installed, a pair of night vision binoculars in hand, likely from the kit in the storage locker at the base of the winch. "Chapman didn't look convinced," Rich said when Nick stepped onto the roof.

Wary of Rich's mood, Nick said flatly, "He wants to win the Game. He wants to fight the guy who took Alan Cao's head. I said I heard it was just some guy."

Rich shook his head. "Yeah, some idiot redhead who didn't know he was fighting the baddest headhunter in the Pacific Rim until the Quickening hit," he muttered, sounding disgusted.

Nick's eyes widened. "Oh, God, Rich," he started. "How the hell did you not know?"

"I was taking a break from working for Grace and decided to visit the Philippines. I was trying out a new identity and honestly hadn't thought much deeper than what I needed to have to be a tourist. Alan saw me, thought I was a newbie immortal just because I look young – idiot never learned how to distinguish between immortal Presences – and targeted me." Rich looked rueful, but he closed the distance between them. Kissing Nick apologetically, he leaned into the taller man briefly before saying, "Not the first time I fought someone stronger or significantly older, but man, that one about killed me. Good thing Connor taught me how to be grounded so I wouldn't get overwhelmed by something like that." He paused before asking, "Still think you can take Chapman?"

"Not now," Nick decided. "I doubt he'll be back tonight at any rate, and I'm not going to chase him through Paris. He didn't piss me off enough to warrant that kind of attention from me, though he tried."

"What did he say?"

"He took offense at the rainbow flag behind the DJ booth." Nick rolled his eyes. "As if that's going to piss me off; that thing has hung there for years now, and he's not the first or the last to make a remark." Nick paused. "I could care less about him right now, though I might be inclined to stab him on principle, for interrupting the first formal Thanksgiving I've had in a decade. Dan tried to get me to do it, but I had a thousand excuses."

Rich sighed and stepped out of their embrace. Crossing his arms, he asked tightly, "And if Chapman had pissed you off enough? What then?"

Nick stared at his lover. "You know," Nick said carefully, "I thought the point of our sparring was to get me to start thinking a bit more about how to fight. You told me months ago I didn't approach a challenge as if it was a tactical maneuver, and you were right. I'd like to think I've learned a few things from you – like not jumping to conclusions without enough evidence. Rich, I wouldn't have fought him tonight, no matter what he might have said. I'd talk to you first; you're better at strategy than I am."

Rich said nothing for a long moment. "It's cold out here; let's go back downstairs." He re-secured the binoculars in the base of the escape winch, then headed into the penthouse.

Fearing the worst, Nick followed him back inside. The roof exit was tied to the smallest of the guest bedrooms and disguised as part of the closet. Still silent, Rich led the way down to the living room. Worried by how tightly Rich was holding himself, Nick sat down on the couch and said, "Whatever it is that I did wrong, I'd like to know what it is."

Rich didn't sit. "I love you, Nick, so much it scares me. Tonight, you told me you loved me back. I hoped you would, in time, but I wasn't expecting it. We were having a very lovely holiday dinner – the first I've had in too damn long that didn't involve Grace's charity work – and the man I love, would kill to protect, who doesn't give himself enough credit – just gave me an incredible gift. For that moment when you told me you loved me, I forgot that we were even in the Game. Then the phone rang and I realized you –" Rich paced away from the couch before he said ruefully, "You were the immortal in charge of a bar on Holy Ground, and everyone wants to either hug you or kill you for it."

"I won't give it up," Nick said firmly, rising to meet Rich.

"I'm not asking you to!" Rich snapped as he whirled to face him. "Why the fuck did you think I was going to ask? You'd be less of the man I love if you gave it up to please me."

"Other people have," Nick replied.

"Other people don't understand you are the heart of this place," Rich snapped, annoyed. "Without you, Sanctuary's just a pub built on what used to be a church. You're the one who figured out that it won't stay Holy Ground unless the land and the building are re-consecrated periodically."

"Then what do you want me to do?" Nick was confused.

"I just wanted –" Rich let out a breath and visibly calmed himself "– to pretend for a little while longer that the Game didn't involve us at all."

Nick's eyes widened. "I thought I was the only one who wished that."

Rich stared at him. "No." He studied Nick a moment longer. "What makes you think I wouldn't? Or any immortal who believes in love forever?"

Nick couldn't hold his lover's gaze. Now it was his turn to pace the length of the room, ending up at the wall of windows that lined the great room. Looking out at the nighttime Paris sky, Nick said finally, "Maybe because it's easier for Amanda to walk away."

Rich sighed. "She's had more practice. That's beside the point, Nick. I'm concerned you'd even think I'd ask you to give up Sanctuary. Why the fuck would you think I'd even ask?"

"I'm just trying to do the right thing for you."

Crossing the distance between them, Rich grasped Nick's upper arms. "I know we can't hide from the Game, but we've had a fairly quiet few weeks. I'm not asking you to change what you do for a living, Nick."

"Then what can I do to fix this?" Nick demanded. "Dominic Chapman asked specifically for me."

Impatiently, Rich let go of Nick and paced away, turning partway to look at his lover. "And if we'd been out riding, the staff would have told him you weren't available. He's not the first to walk into Sanctuary looking for you or someone you might know; he won't be the last. Why was it so important that you had to go meet him? I said one of us would call back; you didn't have to go downstairs."

Nick blinked at that. "Why wouldn't I if I'm here?"

Rich stared at him and sighed. "Right." He closed his eyes briefly as if in pain. "Of course you wouldn't." He walked over to the coat closet and pulled out his coat. "Good night, Nick." Without waiting for a reply, he walked out.

Nick ran after him. "Rich, wait."

For once, the elevator was too prompt for Nick's taste, and he was too late. Desperately, he tried calling Rich's cell, but Rich wasn't answering his calls. He even went as far as to try Rich's apartment, but again to no avail.


	3. Chapter 3

Rich didn't show up for work the next day or the following one; his motorcycle was gone from its usual place in the garage. Worried, Nick started making phone calls, checking to make sure Rich was still alive. No one had seen him – or if they had, they weren't telling Nick; Rich had friends scattered all over. Nick started to wonder if his boyfriend was coming back. He started to leave voicemail on Rich's phone, apologizing for ruining a tender moment, for being an ass, for forgetting to remember the Game would go on whether he did anything or not; telling Rich he loved him, missed him, and wanted him home.

Tired beyond belief between juggling Rich's duties and his own for a week, Nick walked into his apartment at just past three in the morning, thinking about how grateful he was that the next day was Monday and he could sleep in. He was immediately hit with the deep, distinctly familiar bass note of Rich's Presence.

The young immortal stood before the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. His coat had been tossed to a nearby sofa; his hands were in the pockets of his jeans as he stared out into the early dawn. "I forget sometimes you're more inclined to rush into situations than I am," he said as Nick turned on the room lights. "Then I started thinking about how much different you'd be if you weren't a huge-ass dreamer, a closet romantic, a workaholic, and occasionally clueless."

Warily, Nick closed the distance between them until he stood just off to Rich's right. "And?"

"And the truth is: I'm just as guilty. I've known how much you work for months before we became involved; I've admired your dedication. I love that you have the skill to be a mediator among us; I respect it highly. It was wrong of me to assume that you would change any of that just because we had a date. Besides, you wouldn't have installed that phone in the kitchen if you didn't feel comfortable having your private life interrupted."

"That doesn't mean I have to answer it," Nick pointed out. "I should've called back and had Mazi handle Chapman," he said, referring to the lead bouncer. "The call should have gone to Mazi anyway, not me; someone panicked because they couldn't find him. No surprise; he'd taken a really long bathroom break. It wasn't exactly a secret that you and I had a date; I just assumed that meant we would be undisturbed. I'll make that clearer to the staff; I hate that we were interrupted. I'm no good at mediating other immortals if I can't fix what's wrong between us. Love, please. I'm sorry, and I've missed you so much." He moved to face Rich and reached for him.

Rich stepped back, out of Nick's reach. "That's not the only problem," Rich noted. "You were willing to give up that moment we had for what – an immortal hunting heads? You didn't even ask me if I could handle it; you just told me to stay put and you rushed off, as if I needed protecting." 

"It wasn't just you I was trying to protect."

"He wasn't threatening to blow up the place and everyone in it," Rich snapped. "He was looking for me, though he didn't know it. And if he'd just said the right thing, you'd have challenged him, and I'd be standing here, wondering and worrying. How is that protecting me?"

Nick stared at him. "You're right. If he had said something, I might've challenged him, in order to protect Mazi, Renee, and everyone in the bar from a head-hungry lunatic. Rich, I spent the better part of my life as a cop. I protect people. I don't think about it. It killed my marriage." Nick sighed. "You'd think I'd have learned to reel it in. But I tried it with Amanda, and with Emmeline. And I know, consciously, that you don't need protecting. But every reflex says that you are important to me so I have to be your shield."

Rich inhaled sharply before letting out the breath. "That kind of thinking will get you killed, babe, and that's the part that pisses me off the most. I don't want to lose you. Next time, would you please just stop a minute and we'll figure out how to deal with whoever it is?"

"You might have to sit on me to do it," Nick warned. "I can't stop wanting to just handle problems, Rich. It's my pub; I feel honor-bound to make sure no one is hurt here." He paused, feeling as though he'd failed. "I'm sorry I hurt you. That was the last thing on my mind that night."

"I'm sorry, too. I was just so angry I knew I had to go somewhere else to cool off or say something I'd really regret." Rich stepped into the embrace Nick offered and met his kiss passionately.

"Where did you go? I looked all over Paris for you."

"Remember that potter I introduced you to about a month or so ago?" Rich asked. 

"The one with the bright pink hair, who drooled over Renee until she blushed, and who had that interesting accent? Sarah, I think her name was?" A faint worry that Rich had left him for someone else eased at the recognition. 

Rich nodded. "She lives south of the city. I can throw bricks at walls and she doesn't mind because she wants the brick dust for pottery glazing."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Literally throwing bricks?"

Rich looked sheepish. "I used to throw stones at walls when I was frustrated as a kid. Never found quite the same satisfaction when I use a punching bag. Connor suggested I go back to throwing stuff, since I wasn't channeling my energy constructively."

"Maybe I should buy you a Nerf gun for the office," Nick suggested.

Rich chuckled. "Not quite the same, I've found. Something about the thwack of a brick is so satisfying."

Nick shook his head. "You're weird," he said lightly. "I still love you."

"I love you, too, Nick." He paused. "Somewhere in the midst of all the brick throwing, I realized something. I assumed that if you'd gone through the trouble of setting up a date, you wouldn't let anything else get in the way. That's not true, is it?"

Nick sighed, aware he'd screwed up. "Next time that happens, would you please remind me of this conversation? All I could think of was that Chapman was being too belligerent to handle, and that somehow Mazi was busy. If I'd called back, you wouldn't have had to smash a few bricks. You know how focused I can get at certain things, especially if there's potential danger involved. I just get all caught up in the need to protect people, and no matter how many years it's been since I was a cop, I still feel like I need to serve and protect my people. I'm sorry I didn't stop and think about that more; I just reacted."

Rich chuckled. "Yeah, well, so did I." He kissed him gently, wordlessly accepting the apology. "You look exhausted; let's go upstairs so I can pamper you in the shower."

"Pamper me?"

Rich flashed a quick grin. In an exaggerated accent, he said, "One trained bath slave at your service, monsieur. All you have to do is let me do all the work."

"Like you did a few weeks ago?"

His lover nodded. "Complete with towel rub-down and anything else you desire."

Nearly purring at the prospect, Nick let himself be led. By the time Rich was done attending to his shower needs, however, Nick was barely awake; the stress of juggling the pub and worrying over Rich had fed his adrenaline, and he was crashing hard.

"Sorry, ‘m so tired," Nick apologized. "So afraid you were gone forever."

"Shh, love, I'm right here and I've got you," Rich told him, and watched Nick's eyes nearly close with relief. Another day, Rich would deal with Nick's fear of abandonment, but now wasn't the time. "Here, lean against the wall." Briskly but thoroughly, Rich toweled him dry, bracing the heavier man with a grunt of effort when Nick tried to help him by stepping forward. "No, no, love, you're good right where you were. That's it, babe, we're almost done. Just — ah, yes, turn like that. God, you have such a sweet ass and a lovely tattoo, too." Rich pressed a kiss to the mounds he'd just complimented before he knelt to dry off Nick's legs and feet. Rich then moved to spot-dry any areas still sparkling with water. He then deposited the towel on the rack beside the shower stall. "All right my love, you need to turn to face me, yes, like that —" Rich's monologue was interrupted by a kiss "— ah, great idea, but you're dead on your feet, and we need to get you to bed."

"Wanna make love you," Nick protested, his words slurring even as he leaned into Rich.

"Tomorrow," Rich promised, grunting as he half-pulled, half-pushed Nick out of the bathroom. It was slow going. Nick outweighed Rich; compounding the problem was that Nick kept trying to kiss Rich and wound up pressing his lips against any available piece of skin. Finally, Rich wrestled his mostly asleep boyfriend into bed and under the covers.

Rich then returned to the bathroom to brush his teeth before crawling under the covers and snuggling Nick. Rich laid awake a bit longer, worried about how fast Nick had crashed once he knew Rich was there. He'd seen Nick after running with little to no sleep before, when the pub had hosted a three-day summer weekend celebration back in July and they'd wound up shorthanded. Now Rich wondered if Nick had slept at all when he'd gone. Paranoia was one thing, but this habit of Nick's bordered on outright fear. Promising himself he'd ask Nick about it when they woke, Rich relaxed and slid into sleep.

****

Rich woke with a moan, as dream segued into reality. Opening his eyes, Rich looked down to see that Nick had thrown off the covers and was determinedly working his mouth on Rich's cock, trying to take him in deeper than Nick had ever done before. The erotic sight and Nick's enthusiasm was too much; Rich came with only a groan to warn his lover.

Nick swallowed repeatedly, but a week's abstinence was evident, and he soon pulled his mouth off. Rich groaned again, relishing the sight of his lover looking like something out of a porn film as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand, and finished spilling his seed. Nick swallowed again before he leaned over Rich, his eyes glittering with desire as he kissed Rich, letting him taste himself on Nick's tongue. Pulling back slightly, Nick growled, "I hope you didn't have any plans for today; I've missed you."

"Only plan I had was to be with you," Rich told him. 

Nick grinned wickedly. "Good." He then proceeded to demonstrate he'd paid close attention to what Rich liked to do to him in bed, and gave Rich a taste of his own brand of sexual pleasure. Nick didn't rim him, but he played with slick and fingers instead.

"You want — ah, God, Nick, love, fuck, love your fingers in me, yeah fuck me with your fingers, fuck me with your sweet cock, please."

"No," Nick told him. "Want you to fuck me. I wanted to see you go crazy and get hard for me."

Rich shuddered with anticipation. "God, yes, want you, please, babe."

"Give me a sec." Nick carefully removed his fingers from Rich's ass, then planted his knees on either side of Rich's hips. He then took a deep breath and removed the dildo he'd inserted into himself when he woke up, tossing it to one side before spearing himself on Rich's cock. The shock of insertion made Nick's breath hitch and he cried out; the dildo had spread him, but not nearly to the depth Rich could reach.

"Nick!" Aroused beyond words at his lover, Rich grasped his lover's hips and began to thrust as Nick groaned out his name.

Blissed out on extreme pleasure, Nick could barely move, and Rich quickly took charge. "Ride me, babe, fuck yourself on my cock, that's it, that's the way, yeah, love you so much."

"So good," Nick breathed as he began to piston himself on Rich's cock. Nick's words soon turned into a sexual babble Rich barely understood as his own passion reached a climax. Nick's orgasm crashed over him, but he kept on riding, on some level aware that Rich still needed more. Finally, Rich shuddered and came again.

Panting, he stared up at Nick, who took a few minutes to recover as well. Carefully, the two men disengaged, and by silent agreement, headed into the shower, taking turns getting clean when they did so.

"Just how long were you awake?" Rich wondered as he dried himself off.

Nick laughed briefly, stepped out of the shower, and reached for the towel. "About half an hour," he said. "Seemed so simple when I thought of it."

Rich leaned over and kissed him. "I'm not complaining about the results," Rich assured him. "I'm just checking to see if you're okay. That felt like one of your impulsive plans."

Nick shrugged ruefully. "It was? I feel like I'm going to walk funny all day."

"Guess that means it's my turn next time," Rich said lightly, accepting the robe Nick handed him from the back of the bathroom door.

Nick slipped on a similar robe and looked at his lover. "You really mean that."

Confused, Rich met his gaze. "Yeah, why? I told you before I like it."

"I…" Nick started, then stopped to consider his words. "Maybe I'm not ready yet. I liked inserting my fingers into you, but my cock — I'm afraid I'd hurt you."

Rich licked his lips, his face reflecting a remembrance of the times he'd taken Nick's cock in his mouth. "You aren't a small man and I like that," he told Nick as they moved out of the bathroom. "You're a bit wider than me, but that just means we have to use a bit more lube."

Nick shook his head. "It's more than that," he said, pausing at the doorway to the bedroom. "I like it a lot when you fuck me and I…" He fumbled for words. "I love waking up to you. Loving you awake like I did is something I've wanted to do awhile."

Rich waited patiently. 

Wincing a bit at his own thoughts, Nick finished, "Don't think I'd feel as comfortable taking you. I dunno. It's a bit messed up in my head right now."

Rich kissed him. "You're not the girl in this relationship," he said firmly, guessing the direction of Nick's thoughts.

"I know that," Nick said, sounding irritated with himself. "I don't think I'm less of a guy for letting you fuck me. I'm just…not sure I'd be as turned on? I think about us making love and my brain instantly heads in the direction of just how I can get your cock inside me." He chuckled softly. "Maybe you've got me trained well."

"I wouldn't say that," Rich said gently, taking a hold of Nick by his shoulders. "You've thought about this long before I came along. I just happened to be the lucky guy who gets the pleasure of granting you what you desire. If you never want to experience what it's like to fuck me, I'm okay with that."

Worried, Nick studied him. "You sure? Every time you tell me you're okay with not going somewhere, I start wondering if we should." He took a deep breath and let it out. "I really want you to be happy with me."

Rich kissed him back. "I love you, I'm happy with you, and I won't push. You know that."

"You've been so patient with me. Having you walk away last week just made me realize how much you channel into other things, like working or sparring or sex," Nick said. "I hate that I sound so damn needy about this, but I…" He sighed. "Are you sure, Rich?"

Rich didn't hesitate. "Of course. I told you before, I'm not going to want you any less if we don't do more." He grinned mischievously. "I know you well enough to know you're gonna wonder if there's something else I might want, so this is me, telling you. Doesn't mean you have to feel compelled to act on it in any kind of time frame; I love what we do together and I don't want you to feel pressured." 

"Still. Knowing you want that makes me think I'm doing you a disservice somehow."

Rich glared at him. "You're not. That kind of shit makes me feel like you're trying to earn merit badges or some kind of prize — I told you before, there are no awards for anything we do in bed. I loved you when I didn't know you even liked guys."

Nick sighed. "I know, but…" He gave his lover a self-deprecating smile. "I've always been fond of badges. I mean, I carried one for fifteen years."

Rich stared at him a moment before shaking his head and smiling reluctantly. "I'll come up with something," he promised jokingly, eyes dancing with sudden mischief.

Nick groaned. "No, you won't. Knowing you, it'll be something completely outrageous. Forget I said anything."

"Spoilsport," Rich teased.

Nick chuckled. "I love you. Want to help me make brunch?"

Rich smiled and led the way downstairs. 

*****

"Did you sleep at all while I was gone?" Rich asked much later in the day. They'd eaten, made love again, and napped, and were now idly watching TV as they sat next to each other.

Nick shrugged, turning slightly to face him. "Not much. I did tell you I don't do well alone, didn't I?"

Rich sighed and folded his right leg so he could face his boyfriend more fully. "How did you manage when you were a cop? You weren't married then, were you?"

"My partner needed a keeper worse than I did," Nick replied. "It was easier to get caught up in Claudia's life, being friends with her husband, godfather to her kids; it felt like I had family, so when I went home, I didn't feel alone. I knew I'd wake up the next day and see them."

"Same way you handle me going back to my place on weeknights?"

Nick nodded. "As for being married: Lauren and I did a lot better as friends than we did as husband and wife. She was the district attorney; I was the rising young cop. In hindsight, I tried to do way too much at once." 

"You, too much at once?" Rich feigned shock, and Nick laughed. 

"Yeah, imagine that. We got married when I was twenty-five; she made me think about going to law school; I even took a few classes. I was so sure we'd make it."

"She already had a career established when you met?" Rich clarified. At Nick's nod, the younger man teased, "You and older women. Does that mean you're robbing the cradle with me?"

Nick snorted. "Most days, it feels like you're older than me, Rich. You've had a much more intense education on what it means to be one of us than I've had; I can see where it's forced you to really consider how you're going to live the rest of your life."

"I'm not the one running a bar on Holy Ground and trying to mediate disputes between us," Rich pointed out. "You don't give yourself enough credit, babe. I couldn't have run a bar the third year of my immortality, much less made it the success it is, and dealt with Amanda and Bert at the same time." 

"I think you'd have done fine," Nick countered. "I told you before I wish we'd met sooner."

"I don't think we'd be together now if that had been the case," Rich pointed out. "You weren't interested in men then, were you?"

Nick sighed. "No," he admitted. "And from what you've told me, you just started working for Grace, so if you'd passed through the bar, I wouldn't have a reason to get to know you."

Rich nodded agreement. "I like the way things have turned out so far. So how long were you and Lauren together?" 

"Dated for three months, engaged four, and our marriage lasted six months; but our friendship lasted fifteen years." Nick paused. "She died here in Paris, trying to run from an immortal – Heller was his name."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Were you one of us then?" 

"No, but by then, Amanda and I had fallen in love; both of us were fighting it. I knew about immortals, Watchers, and that whole 'mortals shouldn't interfere' doctrine for almost a year at that point. I killed two immortals before I was one; I was so damn sure I could handle myself." Regret and the wisdom of hindsight colored his voice, and Rich reached for his hands, wanting to reassure him.

"What happened?"

With a sigh, Nick told him, "I think the worst part was that I didn't learn from that incident that sometimes when Amanda was trying to get me to stay away, she had good reasons. A month later, someone walked into the bar and begged me to help her find her missing brother. Of course, the guy who'd kidnapped her brother was an immortal. When I started digging, Peyton saw me as a threat and gassed me with a kind of poison no doctor had ever seen before."

Rich studied his lover a moment. Wordlessly, he coaxed Nick to lie against him so that Nick's back was against Rich's chest, and then backed up so they could stretch out on the couch lengthwise. "I remember you mentioned that you'd been poisoned and then shot. You, of course, didn't know you were going to be one of us – Amanda wouldn't have told you anymore than Duncan did with me."

"Right," Nick said, sounding faintly annoyed as he leaned into the now-familiar comfort of Rich's embrace. "Peyton said I had twenty-two hours to live, but I managed three days. Amanda took me to doctors, hoping they'd have some kind of cure, but all of them said the same thing – they wanted to run more tests, hold me for observation, they needed more time to study me, but I refused. Amanda told me after we'd gone to the last ER that I wouldn't die, but I thought she was just bullshitting me." Nick shrugged, and took comfort from Rich's look of sympathy. "I figured my final act would be to help her win against Peyton – the white knight come to save the day sort of thing. He'd used a holographic projector to make Amanda think she was fighting him; it was his way of trying to wear her out and cheat. I found the damn machine and shot it. With that distraction gone, Amanda took Peyton's head, and then she took my gun and shot me. She told me that the only way to become an immortal would be through a violent death. I still think that damned poison was a pretty violent way to die. I had fever, chills, hallucinations; my gut felt like someone had ripped it out."

"It would have been," the more experienced immortal agreed neutrally. "You still would've been immortal either way."

Startled, Nick looked up at Rich, almost sitting upright in the process. "What?! How the hell do you know that?"

"Because," Rich said humorlessly, "I took the heads of three immortals whose First Deaths were through poison. Besides, I heard Amanda died of the plague."

Nick winced and resettled himself. "Amanda knew I'd go after Heller if she'd killed me sooner," he surmised. "Somehow I never pieced it together before – she must've thought that recovering from a gunshot wound would've been easier than the poison. That's why she kept telling me I wouldn't die."

"I died of food poisoning once; it was awful. I'd take getting shot over that any day." Trying to give comfort, Rich rubbed Nick's shoulders. "Would you have been able to handle Peyton?"

Nick sighed and shook his head. "No, not then."

Rich was silent a moment while he considered his next question. "Amanda told me you wanted to prove you could be her next hero. Any idea why she might've said that?"

The ex-cop laughed wryly. "When Amanda and I got back together, I wanted to prove so damn much: that I could love her, that being in the Game together didn't matter, that I could be enough for her that she'd never leave. Didn't sleep much then either, trying to juggle everything. In hindsight, she and I make better friends than we did lovers."

Rich said nothing for a moment. "This not-sleeping habit of yours when you're stressed has to stop. If someone had challenged you while I was gone, would you have been able to fight?"

"Someone did," Nick said. "Chapman came back. He got angry and challenged me when I told him, again, that I still didn't know who took Alan Cao's head, probably some lucky guy. No way in hell was I going to tell him it was you. I refused his challenge and told him that if he was still angry about what I didn't know in two days, he could come back. He hasn't been back."

"And if that hadn't been the case?" An edge of worry mixed with anger tinged Rich's voice.

Nick sat up and rearranged himself so he could face Rich. "I still wouldn't have fought him," Nick said adamantly. "I learned that lesson the hard way just after Dan moved here. I fought a challenge when I was as exhausted as I was last night when you came in, and I wound up letting his memories in a bit more than I usually do. Nothing really bad — thank God — just stuff that I hadn't considered before."

Rich stroked Nick's arm comfortingly. "What did you pick up from him?"

"A better appreciation for men," Nick admitted, not sounding like he regretted it. "He loved, loved, loved men; women were eh. Amanda rolled with it, thank God, and just pulled out the toy box."

"I wondered what prompted that," Rich said with an understanding smile.

Nick laughed softly. "She really helped me figure out that it would take a special kind of guy to make me want the real thing instead of a dildo. I'm grateful for that, but it also forced us to look at what we were doing with each other and why we were together. It wasn't pretty towards the end; we fought a lot. Mainly, I started to see that her definition of fidelity and mine were different; she hated how willing I was to take on a fight or mediate a dispute."

"Some of the staff mentioned to me how much calmer you were since you and I started seeing each other," Rich interjected carefully.

Nick laughed again. "Yeah, well. Philippe's been here since I reopened the place in '01; he's seen me at my worst. I'm not surprised if he said that. Mazi has been here since '02 as well; he said that an immortal bar needed an immortal bouncer, and if no one was going to say anything about him aging, then he was finally home. Mazi's the one who helped me see — really see — that not all of us were out to win the Game."

Rich smiled enigmatically. "I'm not going to name names. Anything else?"

"I also drank a glass of cherry brandy every night for three weeks afterward; it took Dan asking me why the hell I'd stopped drinking whiskey for me to realize where I'd picked up the habit. Oh, and I forgot how to operate a motorcycle."

"What got you to remember?" Rich asked, genuinely curious.

"Dan pushed me to get on it. He was all, 'This is not you, Nick, now quit letting that idiot take over your brain.' The moment I sat on my Harley, I knew what had happened. Anything like that happen to you?" 

"Yeah," Rich said briefly. "I kissed a woman because she felt familiar. Turned out I'd taken her husband's head. It was as if I'd been haunted by his ghost; I couldn't stop wanting her. That was probably the worst so far."

"That would freak me out," Nick remarked with a slight shudder. "I think the changes I went through would've been worse if Amanda hadn't been here to recognize what I needed."

"For that, I'll make sure to give her a Christmas present," Rich said, only partly joking. More seriously, he said, "I'm sorry I was gone so long. I feel guilty knowing you didn't sleep much while I was gone."

Nick leaned up to kiss him. "I was worried something had happened to you. I love you. I always figured you kept your temper on a tight rein, but I didn't realize it was that tight that you had to walk away and go throw bricks. I'll have to buy some so you can throw them in the warehouse across the street and not have to go so far."

Rich chuckled. "I'll add it to the next purchase order." He kissed Nick. They were going to be all right, Rich thought. 


	4. Chapter 4

Renee and Philippe stared at Rich when he entered the office the following day.

"What? Do I have shaving cream on my nose or something?" Rich joked. "I wasn't planning to be gone forever, guys. Just needed to cool off before I said something I'd regret."

"Oh, thank God," Renee said, rushing to hug him, hard. "I've missed you."

The hawk-nosed, lanky, late-middle-aged Frenchman rose as well to hug Rich. "So have I," he said somberly. "Welcome back."

"Thanks, guys." Rich patted the older man's back before he stepped back. "Anything I need to know?"

"I'll catch you up," Philippe promised, "but you might want to check out your desk first."

Rich looked beyond the conference table where the co-managers had been working to look at his desk. Not immediately seeing anything past his computer monitor, he moved around the desk and pulled out his chair. A small stuffed wolf, rubber-banded to a vase with a pair of red roses, sat in his chair along with a note that asked, "If the wolf with the red roses said he loved you, would you have dinner with him Friday night?"

Rich laughed, recognizing the riff on an old Meat Loaf song and relishing Nick's sense of humor. Picking up the toy and the vase, he arranged them on his desk.

"I take that's a yes?" Philippe asked with a grin as he and Renee took seats at the conference table across from Rich's desk.

"You know it is," Rich shot back. "What's he planning this time?"

"Uh-uh, that would be spoiling the surprise, now wouldn't it?" Renee returned. Pointedly, she changed the subject. "Naina asked for next Thursday off."

Taking his cue, Philippe said, "Then we have a hole, because Matthieu has his biology final that day and so does Katherine." He pointed to the list of requests on the paper copy of the staffing schedule.

"Right," Rich said. "You're not going to tell me; you're going to work on the schedule." Not really surprised, Rich sat down at his desk and logged into the system. While he waited for the machine to connect with the network, Rich picked up the phone on his desk and dialed Nick's cell number.

"Wolfe."

"I bet you say that to all the boys," Rich teased.

Nick laughed. In the background, Rich could hear the sounds of street traffic, and realized that Nick was taking care of the errands he'd mentioned at breakfast. "I see you got my present."

"I did, and thanks. He's a cute little wolf, and I haven't had anyone give me roses in years. As for dinner on Friday: yes. I love you, Nick."

"I love you, too, Rich. I'll see you around five; my driver's license renewal looks like it's going to take a while."

"I've yet to have one that didn't," Rich said with a chuckle. "See you later."

On the surface, their relationship was stronger for what had happened on Thanksgiving. Rich started to notice, however, that Nick started to woo him in earnest. The wolf and the roses were just the start of a series of little gifts left on Rich's desk. 

Because Sanctuary hosted karaoke on Wednesday nights and Rich wasn't that big of a fan, he'd developed the habit of exiting the pub as soon as his office shift was over, often to meet with a few friends who held a weekly dinner party. Nick, meanwhile, would stay in the pub until it closed, enjoying the diverse crowd, many of whom were now regulars. The late night meant that Nick wouldn't be awake until midday Thursday, and Rich had steadfastly refused to interrupt his sleep even before they'd become lovers.

Rich had just walked up to the door of his friend's house when his cell phone buzzed with an incoming text message. Pulling his cell phone out of his motorcycle jacket, Rich unlocked it to see the incoming text message pop up on his screen.

_The singers are bad tonight. Wish you were here._

Amused, Rich quickly replied with, "Miss me already?"

 _Keep that up and someday you too might be a detective,_ came the reply a minute later _._

Rich wrote back, "No way. I'll leave the badges to you, babe. Love you!"

_Love you. See you tomorrow afternoon._

Grinning, Rich put away his phone and knocked on his hostess's door. 

Rich put the texts out of his mind, but he started to notice that every time he was going to be gone from Nick's side for more than a few hours, Nick was more prone to call or text him with a very similar message. Then Nick arranged for a more muted and completely uninterrupted Christmas celebration than Thanksgiving had been. Rich would have appreciated it all more except he had the nagging suspicion that Nick was trying to prove something, especially since Nick seemed to vacillate between giving him space and pouncing on him whenever they were together.

New Year's Eve was a madhouse in Sanctuary, and neither man felt up to doing any sort of celebration after dealing with the crowd that had packed the pub to capacity. Between the catfight in the women's restroom, which Rich had to break up since all the bouncers were dealing with other problems, three separate incidents of someone being so drunk that medics had to be called, four sets of immortals choosing the bar to negotiate challenges (with two requiring Nick's intervention to remind them of where they were so they didn't start fighting right there), and the general insanity of a pub during the New Year, Rich and Nick had been on their feet and handling things all night. Rich had planned to spend the remainder of the night with Nick, but after showering together, Rich happened to catch a look on his lover's face that made him pause. It was a look of fear.

"Nick? I'm not sure I like where your head is at right now," Rich said cautiously. "Talk to me, please."

"I did something wrong, didn't I?" Nick worried. "You didn't touch me in the shower like you normally do."

Rich's eyes widened. "Babe, we're both exhausted. Even I have my limits." Reassuringly, Rich kissed him, and he felt Nick visibly relax. "Come to bed; we'll play in the morning."

It was the week after Thanksgiving all over again, Rich thought, except he had a better idea of what was wrong. Long after Nick had fallen asleep in his arms, Rich laid awake, trying to come up with how to deal with his lover's fear of abandonment. How many times had Amanda left him to make him doubt that his lover would return? Rich wondered. It clearly wasn't something Nick was completely aware of; it only showed itself when Nick was too tired to control himself. The only thing Rich could do was try to show Nick that he would be there for him.

****

_Three weeks later_

As business happened to be slow that afternoon, Rich was at the bar, keeping the head bartender, Lyle, company. Nick was due to arrive any minute; he'd texted Rich to say he wished Rich could share his shower, a suggestion Rich had ignored. Rich was aware that if he'd gone upstairs to indulge Nick's wishes, both of them wouldn't be likely to come back the rest of the evening, which would have left the pub without a member of management in the house, as both Renee and Philippe had Thursdays off, and the assistant manager wouldn't start his shift until just before the dinner rush. 

Rich had just finished laughing at a story Lyle had told when he noticed an intrigued look appear on the bartender's face.

"Looks like someone's seen a ghost," Lyle noted as he looked into the pub, past Rich.

"Male or female?"

"Yummy," Lyle decided, grinning, and Rich rolled his eyes. "Those glasses, that very fine body in that suit…just makes me want to peel him out of all those layers and make his trip to Paris a memorable one."

Rich turned to see a tall, mixed-race man move towards the bar. He wore a dark navy suit which had been cut to flatter his runner's body and carried a battered briefcase. 

"Paul?" the man asked hopefully in English. "Is it you? I never thought you were dead."

Rich swore mentally. Jamal Leonard was supposed to be safely in Brazil, working for his father's firm and forgetting he'd ever fallen for a redhead with a love of motorcycles and men. "I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong person," Rich lied, deliberately speaking French. 

Jamal stared at him, unwilling to believe, then sighed. "You look a lot like my late boyfriend," he said in French. "It's been six years; if he was still alive, he'd probably be going gray now." He offered a sheepish smile. "My name is Jamal. I see from your name tag that you are Rich?"

Rich nodded and smiled a little more genuinely. "Welcome to Sanctuary. Have a seat. Are you meeting anyone?"

Jamal shuddered. "I've had enough of meetings for the day. Tomorrow I fly home, but the concierge at the hotel suggested I check this place out, so I thought I'd come." He eyed Rich appreciatively. "Now I wish I'd come here sooner."

Lyle chose that moment to cut in. "Excuse me. Rich, Nick is at table 8. My name is Lyle and I'll be your bartender tonight. Can I get you anything?"

"Thanks, Lyle. Please put Jamal's first drink on my tab," Rich said, grateful for the cue. Turning to his ex-lover, Rich said, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Jamal. I hope you stay for dinner; we have an excellent chef." Rising, he nodded a goodbye, grabbed his coat from the back of the bar stool, and headed for Nick's table.

Nick had a plate of the evening's special in front of him, but he started to stand when Rich arrived. Waving him to stay seated, Rich leaned over and kissed him lightly before taking a seat in the chair nearest his boyfriend. "Sleep well?"

"Surprisingly, yes," Nick said. "Did you spend part of the night with me? I don't remember really waking when you came in."

Rich chuckled softly. "Yeah; I think you've finally started to recognize me. You muttered you loved me, rolled over, and went to sleep. A family of tourists is renting the place next door to me, and I could hear them talking about everything they'd seen through my bedroom wall."

Nick winced. "I knew that place had thin walls. Are you hungry?"

Rich shook his head. "Not for that," he said, gesturing to the chicken and sausage cassoulet. "I tried it earlier. Something's a bit off, but I can't figure out what is. I'll grab something on the way home, but I wanted to spend a little bit of time with you."

Disappointment mixed with something else Rich couldn't name flashed across Nick's face. "Oh. Who's the guy at the bar you were talking to?"

"Someone looking for a dead man," Rich said quietly.

Nick reached for Rich's hand and rubbed it reassuringly. "World's a small place sometimes, especially here."

Rich leaned against Nick's shoulder, taking the comfort he offered. "I know. Have I mentioned lately that I love you?"

"Not in the last fifteen minutes," Nick joked. He took a bite of his dinner. Chewing thoughtfully, he swallowed the bite and said, "What did you have to drink with it?"

Rich groaned, recognizing his error. "That Argentinian wine we just got in. It colored the taste of everything, but it smelled so nice."

"And here I thought you were smarter than to be led astray by your nose," Nick teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Rich laughed. "When it comes to wine? Apparently not. Oliver's going to have a fit when he hears about this," he said, referring to the pub's sommelier.

"I won't tell if you kiss me."

Amused, Rich countered, "That's hardly a bargain. I'd kiss you anyway."

Nick considered. "I'll make it worth your while later tonight?"

Rich hesitated. Lately, it seemed as though all they did together was work and have sex. "I wasn't planning on coming back tonight," he said finally.

"Why?" Nick asked, suddenly suspicious.

Rich raised his eyebrows. "Because I've been here ten hours and I'm tired?"

"You're not meeting anyone?" Nick pressed.

Bewildered, Rich stared at him. "What makes you think I am?"

Nick eyed him suspiciously. "That guy at the bar –"

"– is someone I was falling in love with, but then? I had to stage my death because someone hit me with a car. I think it was his father, who didn't like gay men." Rich's voice was hard. "I love you, Nick, but I'm going to spend some time by myself, in my apartment. I'm sorry if that isn't what you had hoped we'd do, but I really need to do some laundry and catch up on a few things I've been neglecting to do."

Nick looked as though he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it. Instead, he offered Rich a tenuous smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, then. I love you, Rich."

Rich stood, pressed a kiss on Nick's lips, and then exited the pub. As he pulled on his coat and headed towards his apartment, which was less than a mile away, Rich reviewed the conversation in his head, and his steps started to reflect his anger. 

****

Nick bit his lip as he watched Rich walk away. He'd said the wrong thing, made the wrong assumptions, and he was going to pay for it. Again. Disgusted with himself, Nick lost his appetite. Signaling a nearby server to take his plate, Nick forced himself to focus on the pub's operation until Andy, the new assistant manager, could take over. Then Nick escaped to the privacy of his apartment and poured himself a drink.

He wasn't going to call or text. He wasn't going to beg. He was going to give Rich space, because Rich had told him, and the texting and gifting hadn't seemed to make much difference to the way Rich treated him. Maybe he wasn't giving Rich what he wanted, Nick decided. He discovered his glass was empty; thinking all these thoughts made him thirsty, so he poured himself another drink.

Maybe Rich wasn't going to show up in the morning to kiss him hello as had become his habit most days. Maybe Rich was tired of the way Nick wanted him sexually. Nick shuddered at the thought, but knew Rich had started to cut short their sessions, saying he was tired and wanted to sleep. 

Silently berating himself, Nick drank his way through the bottle, then started in on another. If Rich wasn't coming back, then it didn't matter if Nick woke up the next morning or not. No one would expect him in the pub until late afternoon anyway.

****

By morning, Rich had managed to work through his anger. He'd taken a long motorcycle ride around the city and spent some time cussing out the idiot drivers who were determined to run him over. Still, Rich knew he and Nick had to talk. Unwilling to let the situation linger any longer, he headed up to Nick's apartment and let himself in.

The stench of alcohol hit him first. Glass crunched underneath his feet, and Rich stepped carefully out of the doorway. One of the crystal decanters Nick favored for storing whiskey lay shattered, as if Nick had thrown it against the door.

Nick himself lay sprawled on the staircase. Dried blood stained his forehead. His right foot was tangled in the railing, looking as though he'd twisted it. Alarmed and worried, Rich checked Nick's pulse and breathing, and found him to be absent of both.

"Now I'm really pissed at you, Nick," Rich said, disgusted. "Guess I'm just gonna have to wait until you revive before I ask you why the fuck you thought this was a brilliant idea."

Aware from his own experience that reviving from an alcohol-induced death took a while, Rich cleaned up the broken glass and straightened the living area. He wrestled Nick to the sofa, reset the ankle, and set an empty trash can nearby for when Nick woke up, just in case. Rich found six empty whiskey bottles in the trash, one empty decanter in the sink, and a half-empty bottle sitting on the coffee table, its cap in an unknown location. Rich started to pour the remaining whiskey into the decanter, then changed his mind and poured it all down the drain. Nick had a ready supply of liquor thanks to the pub; one less temptation up here was probably a good thing. 

Nick came back to life an hour and a half after Rich had finished cleaning. He winced in pain as his Quickening healed what he'd hurt, then winced again when he saw Rich's expression. Still not saying anything, he accepted the pain reliever tablets and glass of water Rich handed him, then downed the medicine and finished the whole glass. Rather unsteadily, he got up and staggered off to the downstairs bathroom for several minutes before returning to the couch.

"Mind telling me why you got that drunk?" Rich asked evenly as he handed Nick another glass of water.

Defensively, Nick didn't look at him and focused on finishing the glass. "You should go downstairs," he said finally, setting the glass down on the coffee table. "You don't need to babysit me."

"I do if you don't tell me what the hell triggered you giving yourself alcohol poisoning, tripping on the staircase, and hitting your head."

"Nothing," Nick denied.

"Nothing?" Rich snapped. "That didn't look like nothing when I walked through the door this morning. Something is going through your head, and I'm guessing it has to do with me. You have been trying to prove something to me – hell, to yourself for all I know – for months now. Then the same night someone from my past walks into the bar, you nearly accuse me of planning to meet up with him, and then act disappointed that I won't spend the night with you. I go home, annoyed, and walk in here this morning hoping to have a reasonable conversation with you about it, and I find you dead on the staircase, looking like you killed yourself drinking."

Nick pulled his knees to his chest, stared at his kneecaps, and kept his head low. "I was trying to make it stop hurting," he said, almost inaudibly.

"What?" Rich sat down on the coffee table and reached for Nick's hands. "Stop what?"

Nick lifted his head. He smiled at Rich shakily, blinking past his tears. "The hurt. I'm no good at keeping people. I want to cling tight and hold on but they're all free birds; they want to fly free. I just want to love and protect." Dully, he added, "You should go. You won't want to be around me anymore." He pulled his hands out of Rich's and turned his head away, as if expecting Rich to get up and leave.

"Babe, you're really scaring me here." Rich moved to be in Nick's line of sight. "If I leave now, I'm terrified you're going to do something incredibly stupid, like get lost in a bottle, wander off the grounds and …" he trailed off, aware that there was almost always someone hanging around Paris looking for an easy kill. "I'm not about to do that. I love you. If you need a counselor, we'll find one. I just need to understand why you think I'm going to leave."

"Because I'm not good enough," Nick whispered. "You don't want me the way you used to. Maybe if I learn how to fuck you, will that be good enough?"

"Not if you're flinching the entire time," Rich shot back. "I want us both to enjoy having sex. I can't if I'm too damn tired from working; my hormones only go so far. Also? I relish the intimacy we share more than what we do physically." He studied Nick. "What do you want from me, Nick?" he asked quietly. "Really want, not just what you think I want."

Nick closed his eyes and sighed. "You living here again, sleeping beside me every night, doing things with me the way we used to," he admitted. "I've been trying not to push, but I've fucked that up too, so –" he shrugged. "I won't blame you if you leave."

"No, you'll blame yourself and find a convenient challenge to lose," Rich said, annoyed. "Sorry, but you can't be a martyr for me anymore than you could with Amanda. Not now, not ever. I'm annoyed with you, but you pushing me out the door the way you're trying to now is pissing me off worse."

"I don't have anything to offer you!" Nick snapped, exploding off the couch to pace. "I'm a mess, Rich, and I know it. I can't stop wanting to wrap the people I love in this big protective bubble and keep them from getting hurt. I know you can defend yourself and you've survived so much; I love how strong and confident you are. I can lean on you and just forget about the world for a while. Maybe I've been leaning too hard lately, maybe I'm just that bad in bed, but I can't do enough to make up for my mistakes with you. I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore. But I can't stop loving you and it hurts so much that I'm the one who keeps fucking it up, so maybe you'd better find someone else who can love you forever and be sane." Nick crossed his arms and turned to face the windows.

Rich studied him, his heart aching. "Who taught you to keep your mouth shut about your worries and your fears, Nick? It's not me," he said, shaking his head. Stepping closer, he embraced Nick, ignoring his folded arms. "I need to know what you're thinking, babe. Not just about work, but we were doing pretty well communicating until just after Thanksgiving. I told you I don't need gifts or special dates; I just need you, being the intelligent, sexy, charming, determined, selfless guy I love." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "Do you talk to anyone about the mediations you've done?"

Nick jerked at that. "No."

"But you know what happens to everyone?" Rich pressed.

Nick closed his eyes as if in pain and nodded. 

"Do you feel like you failed when someone loses their head anyway, despite what you tried to do?"

Nick turned away. "See, I told you I'm messed up."

"You're not responsible for every immortal who walks into Sanctuary, Nick," Rich said, reaching up to gently turn Nick's head. "I used to blame myself for every time Duncan took someone's head to protect me. Then I blamed myself for causing him to go crazy and come after me. He made those choices; he could've walked away from the challenges he took. I quit blaming myself for anything he did, and forgave myself for the mistakes I've made. 

"As for you: I've watched you at work, babe. You're more successful at getting people to reconsider challenging each other than you let yourself believe. Maybe the next day, they change their minds and challenge each other anyway, but at least for a little while, they didn't fight."

Nick shuddered, but he looked as though he wanted to believe. "In my head, I know that. I know I do good; I know I've convinced more than a few to fight some other day. I just…" He stepped back and turned away. Rubbing his upper arms, he moved a few paces before stopping and pressing his lips together.

"Talk to me, Nick," Rich ordered.

Startled by the crisp command, Nick jumped. Seeing Rich's expression, he sighed. In a defeated voice, he admitted, "I don't know how to do things at anything less than full tilt. When you started to pull away, I got scared. The nights you'd go home, I'd stay in the bar, hoping it would help." He took a deep breath. "I don't want you to feel like you have to be with me for fear I'll do something stupid. Amanda tried that and got bored."

Rich said nothing for a moment. "You're not scaring me the way you were a few minutes ago," he said finally. "Nick, babe, you told me when I started working for you that you'd been living that insane juggling for years. It's only natural that you would find something else to obsess over, given enough time."

Nick looked at him sheepishly. "I didn't intend to," he said apologetically. "I don't want to lose you; you're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. I love you, and I swear I'll do anything –"

Rich silenced him with a kiss. "That's what got you in trouble in the first place, thinking you had to do anything to keep me. You need to talk to someone about the damage Amanda's caused you, and probably for our sanity, not me, maybe Father Liam, maybe a professional counselor, because all I can do is tell you that I believe in you, in us."

Nick briefly leaned his forehead against Rich's. "You sound like the voice of experience, again."

"Connor brought in someone to help me deal with the way Duncan treated me," Rich said quietly. "She helped me a lot, and she understands us, because she is one of us. That doesn't mean you can get away with not telling me when those voices in your head start making you think that going off the rails like you did last night is a perfectly good option. I know what that feels like." He paused. "I'm still annoyed with you about thinking I want anyone other than you, but what you did to yourself last night tells me you have bigger problems than just that."

Nick bowed his head slightly before looking at Rich. Tears welled in his eyes as he said roughly, "Nobody's wanted to stay and help me fight through them."

Rich kissed him gently. "You're not alone, babe. We'll get through this together. I love you."

Nick closed his eyes and nodded acceptance, but Rich knew the road ahead was going to be a rough one. 


	5. Epilogue

_Five months later_

Idly perusing a motorcycle website on his smartphone, Rich waited in the lobby of the medical office. Summer was in full swing, and he was looking forward to spending the evening with Nick. Counseling sessions always left the older man tired and wanting to cuddle, with the nature channel on TV as background noise. Sometimes Nick would talk about what he'd learned; more often than not, he'd simply spend the evening processing, but he was a lot freer about sharing his thoughts since he'd started therapy. Today was scheduled to be Nick's last session with the psychiatrist. Rich was grateful that the one he'd seen in New York had been able to recommend a colleague of hers who was in the Paris area. Rich had met with the doctor separately and in joint sessions with Nick, and felt that the results had been worth it. 

Nick opened the door to the lobby, a smile on his face as he thanked the doctor and said goodbye to the medical assistant. Rich turned off his phone and slipped into the pocket of his motorcycle jacket.

"Take care, Nick," the doctor said. "Please feel free to call me if you need to talk again." He shook Nick's hand and clasped his arm reassuringly. The doctor then stepped out, and seeing Rich, admonished him, "Both of you, be safe."

Rich grinned and kissed Nick in greeting. "We will, Doc, and thanks." Handing Nick his helmet and jacket, Rich then picked up his own gear. The two men headed out to the parking garage where Rich had parked Nick's Harley cruiser. 

"Feel up to driving today?" Rich asked Nick.

Nick shook his head as he put on his gear. "I wish we fit better on your bike."

Rich chuckled. He hadn't really expected Nick to drive; they'd discovered the hard way that he was better off riding pillion after one of the counseling sessions. Taking public transit only made the trip home worse. "Maybe if I take off the luggage rack and strapping," he offered as he put on his helmet, activated the comm unit, and zipped up his jacket. Nick was just big enough that riding passenger on Rich's dual sport bike was uncomfortable, especially since Rich had set it up to carry more luggage than people.

Nick waited for Rich to start up the bike, then back it out of the parking space. While he waited, Nick activated the comm unit on his helmet and said, "I kinda like that we have to share mine, and we have yours if we want to go on a long trip somewhere and take stuff." Once Rich had backed out, Nick swung a leg over the pillion seat and wrapped his arms around Rich's waist.

Rich laughed again. He knew better than to press for details about the session at this moment, but he'd learned to distinguish when it had been bad. So far, he hadn't had any clues that this one had been. "Do you want to ride a bit before we head back home?"

"No," Nick decided after a moment. "I'd rather just head back; I'm hungry."

"All right," Rich acquiesced. "Tomas had plans for a seafood theme today; did you want to eat there or do you want me to fix something light?"

"Maybe I shouldn't have taught you to cook," Nick teased. "You've taken over my kitchen."

"As if you mind," Rich shot back affectionately. "You like it when I cook."

"So I do," Nick agreed. "I still think that going for extra lessons with the pub's chefs is cheating."

Amused, Rich retorted, "Only following your lead, babe."

"Hey, Tomas wasn't supposed to tell!"

"Actually, it was Philippe," Rich said, and heard Nick chuckle.

Nick was quiet for several minutes before he spoke again. "If I haven't mentioned it lately, Rich: thank you for everything."

Rich grinned. Today had been a good day. "All part of the service, monsieur," Rich joked affectionately.

"You're going to spoil me rotten, you know," Nick said. "I'm onto you, you know." His arms tightened slightly on Rich's waist.

"Oh?"

"It's all part of your cunning plan to ensure that I don't ever want anyone else," Nick said lightly, sounding pleased at the notion. 

Aware from the counseling that Nick needed reassurance that he was wanted, Rich chuckled. "Yup. Now that you've found me out, what are you going to do about it?"

"Keep you, of course," Nick said, his voice conveying his grin. "I love you, Rich."

"Love you, too, babe." Assured by Nick's words, Rich headed home. 

****

_The next day_

"Wish you'd been there to see this, bro," Dan said, grinning. "Karen got into an argument with her mother. Get this: I'm sitting at the table in her mother's kitchen, helping chop cucumbers for the salad. Karen has been really getting into looking at bridal gowns ever since I proposed to her, and out of the blue, Diane – that's her mother – says, 'I wish you had a gay friend to go shopping with.'"

Nick groaned at the familiar stereotype. "So what did Karen say to that? And when's the wedding, again?"

"Karen wants it in April or May, so you and Rich can come. I told her things usually aren't too crazy at the pub then. It depends on whether the place she wants to have it at has an opening; we haven't heard back from the wedding planner." Dan paused. "Anyway, Karen says, 'Dan's brother is gay, and I don't think he'd like shopping for dresses any more than I do.'"

"And?"

"Diane looks at me and says, 'Of course he doesn't, he's French.' Well, that set Karen off; she told her mother that she was living with outdated notions of people." Dan shook his head. "Big scene; I was glad I was the only one with a knife in my hand. By the time Karen was done, her mother was just shell-shocked. Apparently, Diane had thought that you and I were both French, and that's why we were weird – me for not proposing to Karen sooner, and you for being in love with a guy."

Nick laughed, enjoying the late-afternoon Skype session with his brother. Nick had set it up on his laptop and was lounging in his living room. Dan was dressed casually, a geek-themed T-shirt visible in the camera's screen. His light brown hair was starting to gray. He had a large, slightly crooked nose, deep-set blue eyes, and a slightly prominent forehead. A strong jaw and thin lips completed his face. He had broad shoulders and a medium build. Dan lounged in a high-backed office chair in his home office, and Nick knew from previous Skype sessions that his brother was using a desktop computer. A framed photo of the Eiffel Tower at sunset hung on the wall behind him.

"How old is Diane?"

"Late sixties, early seventies, I'd say. And yeah, I know, people of that generation often have interesting prejudices. As long as she isn't casting stones….." Dan shrugged. "I take it Rich is handling things downstairs?"

"Yeah. We have tonight off, so we're going to a concert by a new artist he's fallen in love with." Nick grinned. "Can't say I blame him; she's pretty, plays the piano, and sings like some torch singer in a blues bar."

Dan smiled briefly, then grew serious. "How are you two doing? I know you mentioned you've been seeing a therapist."

Nick paused to consider his words. "We're better now," he admitted. "I never really processed everything that happened to me since Amanda turned my life upside down; I kept burying it in work, hoping that if I just had enough time, I'd figure it out. You know how I was when you were here."

Dan nodded. "Tried to get you to see somebody then, too, but you didn't think the stress you were under was a problem."

Nick sighed. "Couldn't see I had one," he corrected. "Your comment to me about living in a house of cards, waiting to see if Amanda was going to pull one out from under me, did help. I probably wouldn't have broken up with her then otherwise. But I didn't deal with it the way I should have. Instead I fell in love with someone who was me, a decade ago, and who rightly recognized that Amanda wasn't good for me. Emmeline's problem was that she demanded I give up a friendship that was older than my time with her, and I couldn't – not under those terms. Still can't, but at least I have the arm's length distance I've needed for years, and Rich has been keeping the same kind of friendship with Amanda for much longer, so we're both okay on that score."

"Has Amanda come around, wanting to be with you?"

"She tried, but we weren't home then. Mazi and Philippe apparently updated her on my status. She reportedly pouted that we didn't tell her ourselves. She sent us a lovely set of matching tie tacks for Valentine's Day, with a note that said she loved us both and hoped we were happy." Nick paused. "I let Rich deal with them; I couldn't look at them at the time. He turned them over to Connor to sell in his antique store."

"More generous than I'd be," Dan noted wryly. "You lucked out, Nick, and found a keeper."

Nick smiled. "I know. I love him so much." 

"You're a lot calmer than you were even a month ago," Dan noted. "Has seeing a shrink helped that much?"

Nick nodded. "It's easier to trust that Rich won't leave, especially now that he's not the only focus I have in my life. He's important, but not at the expense of other friendships and having a life outside of the pub. That was the whole point of hiring him in the first place, so I could have that life, but I'd been running at full tilt for so long I'd forgotten how not to obsess over everything."

"Good, then. You're, uh, done with seeing the therapist or is that something you're going to have to continue?"

"No, the doc thinks that as long as I manage my stress and continue to work on communication with Rich, I'm done. If there are problems, well, we both know his number." Nick was pleased with his accomplishment, though he recognized that the potential for backsliding was there. "And there's a few of us I can talk to, people who – if I'd been willing to open up sooner – would have been helping me when you were here. They just weren't sure if I'd welcome them as friends instead of regular patrons." 

"I've wondered about that," Dan said with a nod. "I know a few of them used to ask me if you were just that driven." He sighed with regret. "I guess I just figured you knew what you were doing, bro."

Nick chuckled ruefully. "I thought I did. Took me screwing up to realize I didn't. You did what you could, Dan. I needed to hear it from someone else. Not your fault."

"You know I've worried about you," Dan said. "Can't help it; I'm your older brother. I'm glad Rich got you help; you're a hell of lot more settled and look more at peace than I can ever remember you being."

Nick smiled. "I feel more settled," he agreed. He paused, sensing Rich's Presence. 

"Someone's ears must be burning. I know that look," Dan said with a grin.

"Hang on a sec, bro." Nick rose to greet his lover as Rich walked into the living room. Relishing the kiss, he resisted the temptation to take it further and said, "Welcome home, love. Dan's on Skype. Did you want to talk to him before we headed out?"

Rich brightened at that news and he followed Nick back to the couch. Slipping an arm around Nick's waist, he waved to Dan. "Hey, Dan. Congrats again on getting married. So, have you set a date yet?"

"April or May next year," Dan confirmed. "I'll get back to you guys on the date; I know you have to coordinate schedules and that flight from Paris to Florida's a long one. Nick was saying you guys are headed to a concert?"

"Sabina's playing," Rich said, naming the rising, cross-genre star that had been on the top of the pop charts worldwide.

Dan glared at them. "Okay, it's official. I hate you. Hey, Nick, I think you need a new boyfriend, one who doesn't score tix to a concert I would kill to attend."

Rich and Nick laughed. "Sorry, but I'm going to have to disappoint you," Nick said. 

Dan shook his head, faking sorrow briefly before breaking into a grin. "Man, I keep forgetting you and I like some of the same artists. Somehow I still think you're stuck in that awful rock phase."

Nick laughed. "You introduced me to those bands, and now you think they're awful? I wasn't the one with the hair metal band hairstyle. Besides, you know well what kind of music we play downstairs."

Rich suppressed a laugh while Dan glared at his brother. A grin twitching at the corners of his mouth, Rich asked, "Am I forgiven if I tell you that I bought you and Karen tickets to her concert in Tampa next month? You should have the e-confirmation in your inbox by now."

Surprised, Dan quickly checked his email. "Okay, you're back on my 'best boyfriend of my brother ever' list," Dan joked. "Front row, are you serious, Rich? And VIP access too?"

"You did mention to me you and Karen were fans when we talked last week, so…" Rich shrugged. "Wanted to give you an engagement present, and figured you'd appreciate that."

"Man, I could totally hug you right now," Dan said. He spread his arms wide and suggested, "Sit in front of the camera and I'll pretend like I am."

Grinning, Rich complied. "Aww, you give the best hugs. Second best to your brother's, of course."

"Of course," Dan accepted the qualifier. "Listen, I don't want to make you guys late to the concert, so I'll let you go. Love you both, and Rich – thanks for taking such good care of my brother."

"Thanks for being there, Dan," Rich said with a smile. "Say hi to Karen for me."

"Will do."

"Good night, Dan," Nick said, ending the Skype session. Turning to Rich, he remarked, "That was sweet of you to send them a present."

"He's a good guy, and Karen's a sweetheart," Rich said easily. "I couldn't put up with her family's involvement to the degree he does, but I can see why he does. She's classy, smart, funny, and loves him to pieces. Besides, from what I've picked up about wedding expenses, concert tickets are out of their budget right now."

"Good thinking." Nick smiled and followed Rich to their bedroom, where Rich began changing out of the Sanctuary-branded polo he'd worn. As always, the sight of Rich half-naked sent a thrill rushing through Nick, but he knew if they were to make the venue on time, following up on that impulse would have to wait. Rich flashed him a smile full of promise, and started reminiscing about a wedding he'd helped orchestrate in Mexico for two of the students of the dojo where he'd worked briefly. A part of Nick paid attention to the story, while he changed into his own concert wear. Pausing at the door to straighten the collar of his perpetually nineteen-year-old lover, Nick marveled at the path their lives had taken to this point. Wrapping an arm around Rich’s shoulder and feeling the embrace returned at his own waist, they strode out the door, comfortable with each other and their own selves, and more in love than ever.

The end


End file.
